Daydreams and Nightmares
by YamiAkane97
Summary: "And what happens in these dreams?" he asked, and Kuroko could see just the slight flicker of puzzlement in the psychologist's eyes. Sure, even he had to admit that it was all weird, but he had to do something about this. "I die." He told him, voice completely void of emotion. Kagami x Kuroko
1. Chapter 1

**[Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroko no Basuke.]**

**Warnings: Very Slight OOCness on Kuroko's part and Yaoi. Any more warnings will spoil the story.**

{**}

Kuroko sat in the psychologists office for the obvious reason.

"I think I'm going insane." he said quietly as he took a seat in front of the desk. The man sitting behind it gave him a tight lipped smile.

"And what makes you think that?" he asked with a neutral, soothing voice.

Kuroko swallowed.

Okay, now was the time to lay it all out in front of the guy. Skip the paranoid stuff and go straight to the real creepy, freaky shit that kept him lying awake at night staring at his ceiling.

"I have nightmares." he said flatly.

"Uh, nightmares?" the psychologist asked with a tilt of the head. He was relitively young for a psychologist, Kuroko noticed. Light brown mousy hair and a round face with freckles scattered across his cheaks. He looked slightly confused for a second, but regained his composure, "And this bothers you?"

"Yes," Kuroko started, "They're constant- every night for the past three months. I haven't been able to sleep because of them, and the weirdest thing about them is that they're all about the same thing."

"Which is?"

Kuroko bit his lip. Now for the really awkward part.

"They're all about the same guy." he said through clenched teeth.

Silence followed, only broken by the sound of tapping made by the psychologist's pen. He tapped the desk with a steady rythem while watching Kuroko.

"And what happens in these dreams?" he asked, and Kuroko could see in his eyes just the slight flicker of puzzlement in the psychologist's eyes.

Sure, even he had to admit that it was all weird, but he had to do something about this.

"I die." He told him, voice completely void of emotion.

The psychologist was nodding now, but kept tapping that annoying pen. "You realise that it's completely natural to have dreams of people and death, right? Theories suggest that dreams are linked to the subconcious mind and can help reveal a persons fears and desires. Perhaps what you're feeling is a fear of death and..." he coughed and looked away for a second nervously, "maybe attraction."

Kuroko shook his head, feeling a surge of desperate need for someone to understand him welling up inside of him, threatening to explode.

"No, it's more than that. I can feel it." He said, "And I'm pretty sure I've never seen this guy in my whole life."

The psychologist was smiling now, sympathetically. "Kuroko-san, sometimes we forget faces. It's impossible for you to dream of a person you have never met, perhaps you've only seen him in passing before, or on a comercial for something, or-

"No! Trust me, I'd remember if I'd ever seen a face like his before. I've been seeing it on constant repeat for the past three months!" Kuroko interupted, feeling his temper spike slightly.

"Alright, alright, say you haven't seem him before. What about him stands out to you? Could you describe him for me?"

Of course he could describe him, he couldn't ever get the image of the guy's face out of his head even if he tried to. He took a deep breath and let the face come to his mind.

"He has dark red hair, all short and spiked up, and red eyes too. He's tall and tanned, and he has an athletic build." Kuroko explained, his mind recalling the past nightmares he'd had of that face.

"He sounds like the complete opposite of you then, Kuroko-san." The psychologist said with a teasing smile.

Yes, he had a point. His light blue hair and eyes, pale skin and short, slight build was just the opposite of the man.

"How about your death then?" The pychologist continued on, "How do you die in these nightmares?"

"I'm stabbed." Kuroko answers flatly.

"By whom?"

Kuroko looked the man straight in the eye, unfliniching.

"By him." 

{**}

**I wanted to write another Kuroko no Basuke fanfiction with a different plot line. This is just a small chapter here to see if anyone likes it. Reviews will encourage a next chapter...**

**Also, I'll update my other Knb fanfic's later...when I get some motivation to write it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**[Disclaimer: I still don't own Kuroko no Basuke] **

**Note - I forgot to mention that this story take place before Seirin and just before Kuroko's third year championships and then a little before the championships.**

**Also, remember when Kuroko was having a hard time getting into the team in Teiko? Yeah, we're gonna pretend that never happened just for this fanfic.**

{*}

Kuroko left the psychologist's office in a steady pace, determined to not look like he was desperate to get away. Of course the psychologist hadn't believed him when he admitted that he felt as if the nightmares were more than just that. Something inside of him told him that they were not just plain nightmares. Of course he didn't believe him; nobody ever did.

He began his slow walk home, not minding the snow that littered the sidewalks and roads and covered just about everything in sight. Winter in Japan was known to get pretty harsh, but he didn't feel like taking the bus today. The cool wind that blew through his hair helped calm his already fried nerves in a way- which was just perfect for him right now.

When he got home, he went straight to his mother's study. It was a cluttered comfortable room with books piled on the floor and paper's scattered across the dark oak desk. His mother was home for once, bent over the desk reading over a small collection of more papers.

"Is that you, Tetsuya?" She asked without looking up. "Dinner's in the microwave if your hungry. It's getting late, where have you been?"

"I was out with the team." Kuroko shrugged. He wanted very much to tell her where he'd really been, but the thought of her worrying over him stopped him. She was a well known Lawyer, who's services were not only limited to Japan, but worldwide. Because of this, she was rarely home. His father was hardly home either, following the life of a cooperate business tycoon.

His mother nodded, still not looking up. He left her to her work and entered the kitchen to eat.

She'll think I'm crazy, he thought. And she'll be right. And then she'll be appalled, wondering how she could have given birth to an insane son.

That was an exaggeration, and Kuroko knew it, but somehow he still couldn't bring himself to tell.

"So how did training go tonight?" His mother asked from the study, her voice carrying out to the kitchen where Kuroko was pulling off the lid to his leftovers.

"Fine, Aomine-kun dominated the court again today." He answered back.

He heard his mother laugh as she joined him in the kitchen, standing in the doorway with a paper in hand. "That boy always dominates the court. I'll have to come watch your team play someday."

Kuroko smiled at her before forking a piece of chicken into his mouth.

"Your final match is coming up soon, isn't it? It'll be your last chance to play with your team, won't it?" She questioned with a smile, her eyes flickering over the paper for a moment.

Kuroko nodded, but was unable to tell her about his other fears. His fears that had nothing to do with his nightmares, but rather to do with his team at Teiko. None of his friends seemed to be interested in playing basketball anymore, and treated it as a chore. Routine. Not to mention Akashi's completely flipped behaviour. The sport he once looked forward to playing, he now dreaded. But again, he couldn't tell his mother. After all, the saying did state that 'Ignorance is bliss' and his mother seemed quite happy to continue living like that.

He could feel his mother's eyes watching him. "You don't seem very excited about it, Tetsuya." She pressed, and Kuroko couldn't miss the slight sound of worry lacing her words.

"It's fine, mother. I'm just tired from practice." he replied lowly, letting out a convincing yawn to prove his point.

She still looked a little concerned, but she nodded. "Alright then, after you're finished you should head to bed."

He nodded too, happy that she hadn't caught him out on his white lie.

He climbed into bed not long after that, leaving his mother with her work. As he settled comfortably into his bed, he felt another feeling of dread prickle at the back of his mind.

I'm going to dream about him again, and my own death. Not even that damn psychologist could help me.

He rolled over, tugging the covers up on his body.

Maybe he was right, and they are just dreams. I'm probably just being paranoid.

His eye lids fluttered shut, and soon sleep found him.

{*}

He couldn't tell where he was, as the lighting in the background was so dark it made objects impossible to distinguish. But the one thing he could see clearly was the man's face.

It was the exact face he'd seen over a hundered times before, wearing the same expression he always held. Sadness. Pity. Sorrow.

Although he shed no tears, Kuroko could practically feel his anguish.

Something hot and wet was soaking wet, and he looked down, noticing not only was he lying down, but their was something silver sticking out of his chest.

Against the dim grey, he could make out the dark blood staining his shirt, spreading out to soak the front of his shirt.

And he could feel the pain. Oh god- the pain was unbarable, but as adrenalin began to flood his systems, he could feel the pain seeping away. Just like his blood.

And the man did nothing, just held him while he bled to death in his arms. And through his haze of his own slipping mind, he could make out a few words.

"I'm so sorry, Kuroko."

{*}

Kuroko sat up quickly in his bed so fast he made his own head spin. His heart was hammering, threatening to escape his chest. He sucked in deep, ragged breaths and forced himself to calm down.

It was just a dream.

He groaned and slumped back down on his bed, turning his head to see his bedside clock. 3:16am it read, informing him that he'd only had five hours sleep. Perfect.

He shifted under the covers. He could feel the sweat on his skin, causing his clothes to stick to his skin. But he ignored in in favour of trying to get some more sleep. He was too tired, and all these nightmares were taking their toll on his body.

When daylight came, he found himself still lying awake in his bed staring at the ceiling. A part of him didn't even want to get out of bed. The thought of dealing with his friend's had his stomach churning and mind burning.

Deciding that it was early enough to start getting ready for school and realising that he wasn't ever going to get back to sleep at this rate, he climbed out of bed and began to fumble around in the low light for his uniform.

His mother wasn't awake yet, which was probably good as she was prone to ask so many questions. Flicking on the light in the kitchen, he began to make his own breakfast.

He was halfway through eatting when his mother shuffled into the room in a zombie like fashion. Without a word to him, she made a beeline straight for the coffee maker and began fiddiling around with the buttons.

"What time did you end up going to sleep?" He asked her from his seat at the table.

She groaned in reply, "Honey, I love you and all, but no talking before I've at least had one coffee."

"That late, huh?" he smiled.

She nodded wearily, "Did you want a cup?"

"No, I'm fine." he mumbled and went back to his breakfast.

School that day had been the usual. He set about attending to his classes, completing all his work, and making sure to notify the teacher and all his peers of his presence. A part of him, deep inside, wanted to just remain unnoticed by everyone- including his friends. He didn't feel like going to practice and watch as Aomine continued to skip, and the others not even bother to put in an ounce of effort. Since Aomine wasn't there, he had to make all of his passes to Kise. And sure, Kise could copy Aomine almost perfectly if he tried hard enough, but it was never the same as actually playing with his best friend.

Practice ended on a dull note and left him wondering if there would still be a practice soon.

He trudged home in the rain, not even bothering to pull out his umbrella. He was so caught up in his own thoughts and emotions that he couldn't find any enthusiasum to do anything else but walk and think.

His mother wasn't home yet, so he sat himself down in his room on the bed, trying to loose himself in yet another one of his mystery books. But the distraction wasn't working and he found himself having to re-read the same sentence over and over before he finally set his book down.

What the hell was wrong with him lately?

Perhaps he was becoming depressed. He'd read enough books to at least point out some of the most basic symptoms. But that didn't quite feel right, he mused. It wasn't that he was unhappy and unable to feel happy, but more there wasn't anything to feel happy about. His life was in shambles and he couldn't find a way to fix it.

Every day had become a routine. Sleep, Eat, school, practice, study, eat, sleep... It was a never ending cycle.

{*}

His parents wern't home on that day. And thank god for that.

He burst throught the front door, a tornado of swirling emotions pounding through his head as he raced to the comfort of his own room. He slammed the door shut in his frenzy and threw himself down onto his bed, smothering his face into the pillows.

How could they _do that?_

How could _Akashi _do that?

They were supposed to be _**friends!**_

The tears streaming down the sides of his face wouldn't stop, and the image of his childhood friend's broken and hopeless face kept swimming in his mind. _How could they?!_

Ogiwara had quit basketball. He knew it. He could see it in his friends eyes. And the betrayal. The utter betrayal in his friend's eyes hurt more than anything. More than the sharp, cold silver of the knife in his dreams plunging into his chest. It was as if a million of those knives were lodged in his head, throat and chest, filling him with an ache of desperate need to explain himself to Ogiwara, to comfort him, and at the same time it left him feeling guilty and absolutely filthy.

_Just what was a victory?_

_"Although you have the same cold eyes as they do, there's still some warmth."_

What did that even mean? Ogiwara had said that, but he couldn't guess the meaning to it.

Ogiwara's face came to him again, and he felt as though he would drown in guilt. The black sweatbands were being crushed in his fists. He was determined to never let them go, even though he'd probably never use them.

After all, he was quitting basketball.

{*}

First day of highschool was exactly what he expected it to be. Student's completely ignored him as he slipped in between the crowd of jeering teens, all determined to have new students sign up for their clubs. And in equal return, the new students were milling about to get to the club they wanted to be in before all the positions were filled.

But he wasn't nervous about that. He was more concerned with if he was really going to do this, go back on his vow to never play the game again.

He ducked under an outstreached arm, his own face burried in a novel. He'd occasionally glance up to check his direction, but that was all.

"Basket! Basketball! Sign up this way!" Called a voice, and Kuroko only had to glance to the left to see two second years standing amoungst the crowed calling for attention. Sneakily, he changed his course and made his way over to them. Without catching their attention, he took a form and filled it out on the back of his book and handed it back.

There. It was done.

Now all there was to do was wait and see if he'd make it onto the team or not.

He left the seniors to themselves and made his way to assembally. He figured that if he was early nobody would mind, seeings as they probably wouldn't even notice him in the first place. Besides, it wasn't as if he had anything to do. Maybe he could finish the last few chapters in his novel before it started.

He didn't even notice he was following someone until he looked up from the book.

And he almost stopped there, right in the middle of the teaming crowd of students.

Because the man standing directly in front of him, blocking out the sunlight and casting a shadow onto himself was the man from his nightmares. The very same man that held him as blood gushed from his open wound.

Perhaps he really was going crazy.

{*}

**This was too short for even my own liking, and the program I use doesn't tell me how much words I've used. But I think it's just a slow start. Hopefully, the later chapters will be longer.**

**Thank you to **_Sapphyre Lily _**and **_lenxann_** for your kind reviews, they ment a lot to me as I was sitting in my chair for approximately ten whole minutes debating if I wanted to post this story or not. **

**Thanks for reading, please leave a review on your way out. :) **


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